Colourless
by DelightedCatNerd
Summary: Thalia Grace was renowned around camp for her 'punky' style, famous for her signature black. That's what's said, anyway. And she isn't about to correct them anytime soon- she's lived this long keeping Jason secret, she can keep it that way a little longer. Even if she hates it, and her life has become colourless. But Jason coming back from the dead? That's a whole different story..


**Hey! This, right here, is my very first oneshot based around a headcanon I had a week ago at 4AM in the morning. Basically, my eyes widened comically and I sat straight up in bed, and the terrible, terrible, realisation sank in. This story will be extremely depressing because that's what my thoughts were at the time I had this headcanon. But, hopefully, it'll be better at the end. I hope you like it, because I poured my heart into this one.**

 **I don't own PJO/HOO/TOA**

* * *

At age eight, Thalia Grace loved exactly three things: colours, not listening to her alcoholic mother, and her adorable baby brother, Jason.

Those were the only things she really _loved._ Others, she simply liked, lived with, or hated. To Thalia, _love_ was a strong word; stronger than even hate, and accordingly, she only loved a select few things. Jason, her dad maybe, a couple of best friends at school- that was it. She didn't really like the teachers or kids that bullied her for her ADHD. She definitely didn't enjoy the others who mocked her mother; now an alcoholic slut rather than the popular celebrity she once was (It was questionable that Thalia knew such language at the mere age of eight, but the young girl didn't really care).

She also _hated_ her mother with a passion.

Okay, not her mother- she could never bring herself to purely hate the woman who bought her into the world- but she hated the person her mother had become; a person that was anything _but_ a mother. Alcoholic, a liar, lazy, slutty, uncaring, unloving- if it was bad and it wasn't for moms; you could use it to describe Beryl Grace.

Which was part of the reasons why Thalia loved colours so much. First off, her mom hated anything that wasn't grayish or white. _Colours are annoying, Thalia,_ she had said to her six year old daughter when she was pregnant with Jason. _They're too bright and they get in the way and they're distracting. They're ugly too, have you even_ seen _the latest fashions? Why do you think I bleached my hair? I hate honey-blond, black most of all. I think they're stupid._ Her mother had then went to bed, sleepy since it was midnight.

Thalia, who already understood her mother wasn't that great, made it a point to _love_ colours. Her outfits were rainbows, her room painted all around with random kiddy splotches of pink and blue and green and red. Wherever she went, she always carried a can of whatever shade she'd randomly chosen that morning.

That was the best part about them- no matter what you added or mixed, no matter what the result, someone would be there to appreciate it- the vomit greens and murky browns- someone didn't mind the colour had been changed into a shell of what it used to be.

When she saw an area she thought of as too drab, she sprayed it as much as she could without getting caught. Even when she grew older and learned it was vandalism, she wasn't deterred. She of all people knew that the world needed a little more colour in its lonely little corners, and being filthy rich with all money Beryl Grace had made as an actress, she was ecstatic to provide.

When Jason was born a few months later; his hair a handsome shade of honey-blond rather than her mother's fake bleached yellow, she made it her mission to raise this kid (Her _sibling,_ she reminded herself, trembling with pride, excitement, _pure joy_ ) to be just like her. To ignore her - _their_ \- mother's horrible advice, to love the colours of the world, to grow up safe from Beryl's uncaring idiocy. Zeus, or the much more formal version of him, had left by then, and she was back in her drunken stupor.

A few months later she got her bangs dyed electric blue, after she realised she and Jason shared one thing her mom would never have- powerful electric blue eyes that fixed you with a formidable glare. Baby Jason had then laughed in delight at his sister's long blue highlights, and from then on she added the dye every month when it started to fade.

Maybe her life should have felt lifeless, but Jason and all those colours brought the energy back. Even if her destiny was to grow up with the shunned Beryl Grace, Jason made it worth the trouble- his crazy antics, his innocent smiles and laughter, his dimpled cheeks and fluffy hair that she loved to stroke every day.

As long as she was alive, she swore, _nothing_ would happen to him.

She hadn't yet learned that others were able to break your promise for you.

* * *

At the age of ten, Thalia hated everything. Her mother. Her friends. Her school. The police. Her life. Herself, most of all.

If only she had actually _gone_ with her mom and stopped her from taking Jason. None of it would have happened. She would still have had something- _someone_ \- to love, and now she didn't. She was a completely stupid, freaky bastard. She should have realised her mom was even more unstable than usual that day. She should have _taken_ _charge_ , been in control, stopped the worst part of her life from coming true.

But she didn't. She gave her trust to someone; her own _mom,_ who shouldn't have ever even _thought_ about breaking it, and now her baby brother, her life and joy- he was gone. Forever. Because of one stupid, _stupid_ mistake she had been too dumb to foresee. The kids talking about her ADHD had been right after all. She had spent her entire life devoted to rising above her mother, being influential, doing something _different,_ but she ended up just as mindless as the scandalous Beryl Grace.

 _Like mother, like daughter_.

Every time she looked in the mirror and saw _his_ eyes, she felt like crying. When she glanced at the blue of her hair, she would sob. When she walked into her room, where the paint had long since stopped looking pretty and only resembled a child's ugly finger drawings, she wanted to puke.

Most of all, she wanted to slap her mother every time she saw her- to _kill_ her father the next time she saw him, if ever.

She never wore rainbows now. All her lively clothes, she one she used to revel in because she made her own mother wrinkle her nose in distaste, had been omitted and burned. The only thing she found herself wearing was black- shirt, pants, shoes, bracelets, earrings, even nail polish and lipstick. Even her hair was pitch black except for the streaks she still redyed for whatever reason. Fitting, of course, since Beryl hated black. She could remind her daughter to hate herself when Thalia forgot to.

In short, her life had become colourless.

She tried everything, even when there was nothing. She searched every place she could go that didn't have an age restriction. She knocked on every door and looked under every bridge and dug through every dumpster. She called the police dozens of times, until they rejected her number without even picking up. And when she had all the evidence he was dead and none that he was alive, she did what she never imagined she would do. She prayed to her dad. Day and night, she hoped and hoped he would bring her some sort of sign about Jason's whereabouts. She knew and understood by now the danger of being a demigod- and she still believed he might be alive. She wore the black, she hated the colours, she cried nearly every night, but deep in her heart, something told her he was alive. She'd once heard in a movie that humans knew if a loved one was dead or in danger; and she felt no such thing.

She refused to stop mourning, but she also refused to accept her baby brother's death until Zeus, the Lord of the Skies himself, confirmed it to her.

Two months of praying, and he finally came to her. She was sitting alone in some abandoned park- she felt the urge to isolate herself today, Jason would have been officially _two and a half years old,_ and he wasn't here to celebrate it. She shivered in the chilly December air, but barely noticed. So what if she would be eleven soon? The person she loved most in this world was still lost, and as long as he was lost, no one was allowed to be happy.

A bearded man in a suit materialised next to her. She only glimpse his eyes before she knew he was Zeus- he had his son's eyes, after all. She would recognise that beautiful shade of electric blue in a sea of irises.

"Jason," she said by way of greeting. "Is he alive?"

"Thalia, you must understand-"

" _Is he alive or not?_ "

She looked him dead in the eyes, awaiting his answer. He looked extremely conflicted, when he finally shook his head and said softly, "No, Thalia, he is not. He died the same night when your mother left him with that stranger."

"Stranger? Beryl never mentioned a _stranger_."

"She was unstable. They told her they would take him for a while and then give him back in the future. She agreed. Jason died."

And at those two words, Thalia Grace was finally, truly crushed. She knew it was true. The realisation finally dawned; hope finally gave in to reason- these last few months of fruitless searching had been in vain. Jason was _gone._ She would never hear that innocent laugh, stroke that soft hair, look into those twinkling blue eyes ever again.

All the fight left her. The world had been battling Thalia for the last ten years, and tonight, the battle was lost. She finally accepted defeat. She crumpled, and cried for hours, until it must have been midnight, Zeus awkwardly putting his hand on her shoulder. Two years of searching, and for what? For her to lose the _only_ joy she had ever known.

It wasn't just the clothes that were black anymore. It was her entire world; because this was a world where Jason wasn't there to shed light over the darkness.

At around two in the morning, with Zeus still trying to comfort her in his silent, strange way, she came to another realisation. This, horrible as it was, wasn't her fault. Not even her mother's. No, it was the fault of the man sitting next to her. The one who could have fixed _everything_ , yet did _nothing_.

She started screaming. She called him an ass, a selfish jerk, a shameful parent, someone she _hated_ with all her heart and would _never_ talk to ever again, that she would go and never come back. She knew that he could vaporise her, that she could never escape him because he ruled the entire _freaking sky,_ but that made it worse. Right now, more than anything, more that revenge or time travel or remorse, Thalia wanted _control._ If she had control, Jason wouldn't have died. If she had control, this bastard in front of her who called himself a god would be the one at her mercy, and not the other way round.

When she was done, and had convulsed into tears again, Zeus nodded solemnly. He showed no emotion- nothing to suggest he felt even the slightest twinge of regret. His eyes, however, betrayed him when he looked at her. The bright blue was unusually murky and swimming with remorse, as though he was extremely conflicted by what he'd just said- _done,_ Thalia reminded herself- _he_ was the cause of Jason's death.

"Do what you must, Thalia. I will not stop you. I will only say that there is a place for people like you- demigods, or half-bloods, as they're better known."

Thalia was baffled for a second. _More_ people like her and Jason? A place where she might stand a chance of fitting in? It sounded a little too good to be true. Then she was brought back to her senses and glared suspiciously at Zeus.

"And _what_ exactly would I want with that place?"

"It's would be safer for you. You could grow up there, learn to defend yourself. People would respect you, being my daughter. You could even learn to paint; your love of colours astounds me. I've been watching you from afar. You could get far with it, Thalia."

Thalia hesitated. _Jason,_ she reminded herself, then she looked directly into her father's eyes, even more intimidating when framed with his stormy hair.

"I don't care about this _place,_ and I don't give a _damn_ about _any_ of your stupid advice. You ruined my life. I'm not having anything to do with you anymore, so you might as well get away from me and never leave. Or, better yet, kill me- fucking _kill_ me so I can just be with Jason and have some peace. I know you want to do it. I've never been such a bitch, right? _Kill_ _me._ "

He only looked at her sadly.

"Thalia, you are not whatever that word was you used. And I will do no such thing. The Fates have showed me the sort of life you will lead. And I refuse to interfere. I will stay away, as you've instructed, but you cannot prevent me from sending aid whenever I see fit. Good luck, daughter, and may Tyche help you when you're at your worst, and bless you when you're at your best."

And then he disappeared.

Thalia screamed into the night. _It wasn't fair, it wasn't right, she didn't want it._ What in life had she done to deserve this? She couldn't even get herself _killed_ to be with him.

Thalia suddenly stood stock still as she realised her thoughts. Had she really meant it when she asked for death? Had she really become so suicidal?

But she couldn't have. Would Jason have wanted this? He might have been only two, but he'd started to walk and talk, and he'd loved his older sister with a passion. If he knew what she was thinking, he would have started crying. And Thalia couldn't be the reason Jason cried. But she also didn't want this life. She wanted to be _with_ Jason. Hear his laughter, stroke his hair, play with him and tut at him at he dribbled out food while eating. She hated this life, but she didn't want to die.

Suddenly, the answer popped into her head. There was _one_ way she could have what she wanted. Granted, Jason would never be there again (She sobbed once more at the thought), but she could get away from the mess she called her life. And no, it _wasn't_ suicide.

Three hours later, her backpack was heavy with supplies. Food, money, a sleeping bag, a couple of knives just in case. And of course clothes and makeup, all in the black that had now become her signature colour, because now not only was she mourning for her lost baby brother, but also for the loss of that happy girl she used to be. She would never be the same again, she knew.

Before she left, she went to look in the mirror. Was she intimidating enough? Thalia knew the dangers of prowling around the street at night. Bad men, kidnappers and murderers. She wanted to avoid as much of that as possible. Instead of looking at her face however, her eyes betrayed her and drifted over to her bangs, now a faded blue. It was grayish, and, if Jason was still alive, he would have whined at her to _put the boo back on your hair, Thals!_

As she stared at her hair, she made a decision. Jason Grace was _not_ dead. His heart might have stopped beating, his little lungs ceased to breathe, but one thing that would never disappear were those blue eyes, that love of colour that went even deeper than her own used to. The father of those eyes was immortal. The girl who shared them with Jason was very much alive. And as long as she had them, he could never truly die. He was in her memories. He appeared in her face. He swam in her blue eyes. He would live, through his older sister. And that older sister refused to taint his memory by doing what she knew he would hate.

She grabbed the bottle of blue hair dye. She saw a wristwatch glint in the corner too, with an Ancient Greek inscription she could somehow read. She took that, too, and found it in herself to thank the god that sent it to her.

 _You cannot prevent me from sending aid whenever I see fit._

Thalia Grace then ran from her home, and never looked back.

* * *

At age twelve, Thalia had been crawling down an alley with Luke when she was painfully reminded of her loss.

She had met Luke a few months ago, near a dragon nest that happened to be in the cave she was sleeping in. He had taken her in, become not only her ally, but her trusted friend, confidant, and secretly, crush.

Yes, the stone-hearted Thalia had found her first love, and frankly, she didn't regret it. Luke was everything. He was trustworthy, adaptable, fearless (Or he tried to be, for her sake), smart, good with people, and, most of all, compassionate and understanding. Sometimes, Thalia liked to think Jason would have grown up to become just like Luke. They even had the same blond hair and blue eyes, the only difference in the shades (Jason had honey-blond hair and electric eyes, whilst Luke had a paler shade and deep blue irises- which, by the way, she thought looked _very_ good on him). It was a childish fantasy, of course, a baseless hope, but she held to it all the same. She still added the dye every month, only now she had chopped off her once-long hair so that it went from halfway down her back to a messy 'do slightly longer than a pixie cut.

That was the best part about Luke. Just as she didn't ask too much about his mentally afflicted mother, he never tried to ask about her family. He just assumed that Thalia was punk-rock, and she gladly fed that assumption: buying leather and chains, turning from _mourning_ to _terrifying_ in a matter of weeks.

Right now, however, she and Luke were walking down a dark alleyway where they'd heard someone- or, more likely in a demigod's case, _something_ \- rummaging around, making quick noises as though running from something. They snuck in quietly, wanting the upper hand on whatever monster might be lurking in there.

Instead, they got a thrashing little girl, screaming at them that they should stay away from her because she just _knew_ they were monsters going to get her.

Thalia looked at her, bewildered. This girl looked no older than eight, and she was swinging around a hammer and dressed in dirty clothes that still somehow looked new. Her eyes, a startling grey, were unlike anything else about her; instead of tearing up in fear or darting around frantically like the rest of her body, they looked determined, like she was thinking _Hey, you might be monsters and I might die soon, but you're_ not _going to scare me when you make it happen._

When Luke had calmed the poor girl down, even given her a _knife_ (It made the girl happy, and it was advisable because she clearly was a demigod, but Thalia still mentally shook her head, painfully reminded of Jason), they started asking her about herself.

"What's your name, kiddo?"

"Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena," she replied, sticking out her little chest slight as though she were proud.

"That's a pretty name. I like your name, Annabeth," began Luke, smiling as her grey eyes shone. "How old are you, now? You're pretty smart, but you can't be older than... eight?"

"I'm seven and a half. I turn eight in five months."

Thalia and Luke exchanged a look of anger. They suspected she was a demigod, but even if she was, she was _seven._ What was a seven-year old doing in the streets at this time of the day? Shouldn't her family want to protect her?

Secretly, she knew her family might be like hers, or worse, _Luke's_ , but she refused the thought that a seven-year old could have lived in such a bad household.

"Well, Annabeth, what's someone as young as you doing out here? It's barely dawn. It's dangerous for you. Do you want us to take you back home?" Luke said in a rush.

Annabeth shook her head resolutely. "Nope. I've run away. I don't _want_ to go back home. They don't want me, either. I...I only get in the way."

Her voice cracked at the last part, as though she was trying not to cry. Thalia's face hardened. Who had the heart to _do_ this to such a small girl?

"Well, Annabeth, you can come with us."

She didn't look at Luke for approval. If he had any heart, and Thalia knew he did; he wouldn't question her decision to take Annabeth in. The poor girl was barely eight, a runaway and, from what she'd said, an outcast in her own _family._ The daughter of Zeus knew firsthand what that felt like, and so did the son of Hermes.

So Thalia smiled real wide when, after the delighted Annabeth practically screamed " _Really? You mean it?_ ", Luke had nodded and solemnly said,

"'Course. Forget them, Annabeth- if they can't see how awesome you are, don't waste your time on them. You're part of _our_ family now, and I won't _ever_ abandon you like our families abandoned us."

"Promise?"

She stuck her pinky out, a gesture that for some strange reason was so reminiscent of Jason, Thalia nearly sobbed. She managed to catch herself just in time, however- she'd decided long ago that Jason was the one thing no one could ever know about. Even Luke. No one could know how badly Thalia had messed up in the past; and besides, Jason was _hers._ Thalia wasn't sharing someone so precious with others.

As for the pinky, Luke hooked his own, much larger, pinky around Annabeth's, and smiling, said, "I promise."

She grinned so wide, Thalia was surprised it didn't hurt the little girl. She masked her mixed emotions with another grin and scooped up Annabeth into her arms, since Luke was the one who claimed to know their next destination.

The next morning during breakfast (A _delicious_ combination of sandwiches and water they had found in Annabeth's backpack, and she'd happily shared), the young daughter of Athena told them her whole story. How her dad had loved her until she was about four, when he married her stepmother and then promptly had twin sons- _normal_ boys, Annabeth had called them, and Thalia had wanted to slap some sense into this horrible man- and had forgotten about his daughter. She was seen only as a liability, something he had to keep because she couldn't be sent anywhere else, and he'd started taking more shifts at work, so many that soon Annabeth's stepmother, _glad to_ _be the bad cop,_ as she'd put it, had soon only treated Annabeth like a dangerous problem that she would do anything to solve. Eventually, the little girl had taken the hint: her father didn't want her anymore. He had a better family now, a safe one that wouldn't attract monsters, a _normal_ set of a wife and kids.

As Thalia listened to all of this, her heart slowly broke. And then hardened again, as she imagined what she could do to this man, and all the demigod parents just like him. Over the last year and and a half, Thalia had mastered some control over her powers. Right now, electrocution sounded like a _great_ form of punishment. Anything to make those people feel the pain they'd inflicted on their children. She hugged Annabeth and murmured comforts, relating the story of her own alcoholic mother, careful to leave out Jason.

A few days later, they'd made Annabeth take a bath in one of those showers near the beach (It was quite hard; apparently Annabeth was like all other kids- she _hated_ baths. She seemed to have a lot more fun playing with some other eight year-old with black hair and a crazy love for the water). When she finally came out, squeaky clean and wearing her washed and dried clothes, Thalia had narrowly stifled in a sob once more. She hadn't noticed it before because it had been dark and Annabeth's hair was grey with dirt and grime, but Annabeth's hair was blond- _honey_ blond, just like Jason's had been. Her smiles came with dimpled cheeks, too- and if Thalia squinted she could make out a crooked canine, that forcibly reminded her of Jason's own slightly bent premolars. She was definitely not the same person; but parts of her mirrored Thalia's baby brother so well it physically hurt.

She was lulled out of her thoughts, probably the most depressing ones since the day she'd run away, through the voice of Luke.

"Your turn, Thalia. Gods know we all need a shower at this point."

"Uh, right, yeah. Okay. I toss you the clothes, you get them cleaned?"

"Sure. You do the same for me too, then."

"'Kay. See you in a few minutes."

She went into the shower, changed, and threw out everything except for her underwear. As close as Thalia was with Luke, no guy could see _that._ She'd have a wet butt, but really (She noticed she asked this question _alot_ these days), who cared?

As she showered, her thoughts instinctively wandered over to Annabeth. The little demigod who looked so much like Jason, who even acted like him to some extent. _Hell_ , _if Jason was alive, he'd be around her age, even;_ she quickly realised.

At that moment, Thalia Grace did something she'd never imagined she could do after what happened that night Beryl gave her baby boy away. She made a promise.

 _I swear on all the gods and my life that nothing's going to be happening to_ you, _Annabeth. Until we find a place to stay, you'll never,_ ever _get hurt with us._

Thalia had no idea that oath would ring true three months from now. She didn't know she would tell at Luke to run and fight to her death to keep Grover, Annabeth, and her love safe. And, in all honesty, she didn't mind.

Her last thought had been _Jason, Thalia's coming. You just wait._

She'd smile as she welcomed the suffocating embrace of death, not knowing she was never even dying in the first place.

At age twelve, Thalia would know she was dead, and she would know she was finally happy.

All went dark.

* * *

At age fifteen, Thalia Grace had been immortal for over a year, and she had seen too much of life for her own good. She'd fought in the Second Titan War against Kronos. She'd learned about Luke's betrayal and how he nearly destroyed the whole world because of it. She'd witnessed countless deaths, gained two new annoying cousins (She would still scratch her head at where she saw Percy before. He seemed familiar, she just didn't know _why_ ), and become a huntress. Yet after all that, she _still_ hadn't forgotten Jason.

Her decision to become a huntress had been a strange one. At first, she refused to even _think_ of it, wanting Jason to be a part of her forever. Giving up life with guys would be scratching that promise. Of _course_ she'd said no.

But then Luke had gone around and broken her heart. She wrestled for the same thing that she had wanted with her own parents- _control._ As a huntress, with restricted access to males, she would never get her heart broken, purposely or otherwise, ever again.

So, the second time, she'd said yes. And the rest, after that, as Chiron liked to say; would be forever noted down in history. She was perfectly fine with that.

In short, her life turned for both the better and the worse. She learned to love herself again, watched her little Annie grow up; she even got her own two new little brothers- Percy and Nico, although the latter was really decades older- and she'd made loads of new friends. Being lieutenant after Zöe Nightshade's depressing death (She'd actually cried late that night when no one was awake), she'd gotten to meet girls from all sorts of backgorunds; and she'd loved every minute of it, giving all of those who joined the best life she could, one that came without heartbreak or boys to ruin it. she loved the quests and hunting and almost daily adventures, which never seemed to stop.

Granted, she'd also be faced with the prospect of watching all her friends, who me she considered family, die before her. She'd had to come to terms with her horrible father, and actually forgive him, accept her place in camp and live up to her legacy as he only living daughter of Zeus. She'd watched Luke, her _love,_ turn corrupt, and then later kill himself just to try and reverse all he'd done.

Her life wasn't the best, but it was better.

Which brought her up to January 2010. She was chasing down that werewolf as a lead for the missing Percy, and ended up stumbling into a cave where she'd had to save three children not much younger than her.

The trio, which consisted of a tall blond guy, a Native American girl, and a scrawny boy who seemed Hispanic, gazed at her in shock as she defeated the wolf. Blond guy in particular seemed a little apprehensive, as if he knew her or something. She made nothing of it, it wasn't the first time she'd had to shoot down some mortal who found her hot.

Until, of course, she asked them who they were. Piper was the girl's name- a strange one, yeah, but Thalia had met stranger- the Hispanic guy was Leo, which she guessed was short for something really embarrassing. The blond boy had stepped towards her and said exactly ten words.

Ten words that would change everything.

"My name is Jason. And... I think you're my sister."

The first thing she did was stare. She took him in. Same name, obviously. His hair and eyes, a gorgeous honey blond, and same electric blue- the very same shade, she realised with a shock, still in her hair. He was tan and had a few freckles across his nose. He had the muscular physique boys at Camp Half-Blood often developed after a few months of training. She counted the years silently in her head- _fifteen, oh my gods, my baby brother is fifteen-_ and then searched for the one indication it was really him.

She saw it instantly. Right above his lips, small but striking- the scar he'd gotten when he was two for biting a stapler.

And of all words, those were the first that came out of her mouth. It was absurd, it was sad, crazy, ecstatic, senseless, _perfect._ After nearly nine years of a colourless void, her world became a rainbow again. The area around her shone with different shades, and right in front of her they clashed to create the prettiest picture of all- Jason Grace, alive and well, _fifteen years old,_ who still remembered his older sister.

She hugged him, _hard,_ blurted out the story of his mishap with the stapler, and didn't let go until the tears stopped coming.

It didn't add up. Zeus had confirmed his death. He'd been _two._ She'd never seen anything that looked like him in the news or otherwise. Even alive, he should be homeless and starving, not looking like he'd just come home from a photo shoot.

 _Home._ The word rang in her ears as she looked over at her little brother; not-so-little anymore. For years, even with Artemis, she'd never felt like she truly belonged, but now she understood why. _Jason_ was her home. Without him, she'd been a lost cause, fluttering around like one of the souls in Asphodel. But now she was brought back to Earth. The world wasn't some horrible, misty cloud of confusion anymore. Because Jason was back, and he would be the light to guide her out of the fog she'd grown with for so long.

Thalia had always imagined his return against her will. Slow motion running, or maybe randomly on the street, maybe he'd even be a demigod delivered to camp. Now, she realised, how could she have wanted it any other way? It was a complete mess, yes, she'd said the wrong words and done the wrong things, but in that huge mess, she found perfection. The chaos became a paradise. And her heart, it was practically glowing as she gazed at the boy in front of her, the one she'd missed for so long.

In this moment, nothing else mattered. Not that Percy was missing or Annabeth was having breakdowns or that the gods had gone MIA. It didn't matter that she was publicly breaking the rules of the hunt, and suddenly laughing and crying in front of confused girls. Only one thing mattered right now, only one thing made sense.

She nearly flew as she though of those three words again, the ones that changed everything and meant so much to her.

No, they weren't _I love you._ She wasn't one of those girls.

They were _Jason is back._

 _Jason is back._ So few, yet they carried such a profound meaning in her heart.

 _Jason was back._

* * *

 **And, well, there you have it. I nearly cried while writing that last part, because I was imagining what I might do if my brother took the place of Jason and I was Thalia. I was heartbroken; that girl is so damn strong. Also, I'm sorry if this doesn't follow canon- but I think Thalia should have shown more emotion upon meeting Jason, and that greeting Annabeth could have gone a little better. I hope you guys don't mind.**

 **Anyways, I hope you liked it, even if it sorta broke your heart. This particular oneshot meant so much- I'd based it on the headcanon that Thalia wore black to mourn Jason.**

 **Did you spot the Percy reference early in there, by the way? Hint: It's near where Percy's most powerful!**

 **Please leave a review to tell me what you think, and maybe, if you're up to it, check out my other story- The Little Hero Trapped.**

 **Hope you enjoyed this, guys- I'll see you all later!**


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